-T h r o w A w a y-

Author: Dark Draconain

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: Neither Jack nor Nine belong to me — or anything else from 24, for that matter. *sigh* Also, the lyrics used from the summery are from "Throw Yourself Away" by Nickleback

Spoilers: Anything that happened before and during Day 3: 10pm – 11pm is fair game. You've been warned.

A/N: We had a substitute in English class the other day and I was really board so I decided that rather than listen to the uninspired reading of some very long poem, I'd write a short angsty bit about the Jack/Nina scene at the end of aforementioned episode (aka, the 10 minute kiss – yes, it was really that long...I counted). This is the result of that. Oh, and this is the first time I've written a 24 fic, so let me know what you think, yeah?
Cheers!

Summery: [Day3: 10pm – 11pm] So keep the way you feel anonymous / And hide it all until the day you die.

Flashes of torment ripped through Jack's mind; fleeting memories of bitter anguish and loss. They were mercilessly incurred by her. By her proximity, by her touch. There was no escaping what she'd done to him — what she could still do to him.

Sitting there, handcuffed to a dirty wooden chair a million miles from home, Jack envisioned the end. His end. Alone, with only his nemesis for company, he thought of those he had left behind. His colleagues; Tony, Michelle, Gael, Chloe; his friends; his daughter; his life — such as it was.

Before the Salazar's, before the bomb, before Teri was murdered, before Nina, Jack had been happy. There were issues — there were always issues — but things hadn't been that bad. After he and Teri had split and got back together things weren't the same, but he was back with her and Kim, and that was all that had mattered. When Jack was with Kate, during that brief lull of piece in which he and his daughter had made amends, he had remembered what it was like to be happy again—albeit briefly.

But all that was gone now. Forfeit to a needle full of false pretences.

Once again, Jack was left with nothing. Nothing to loose, nothing to gain. Except, perhaps, an illusion of safety for those who didn't know better. Didn't know what people gave up for them. What he had given up for them.

"Convince me."

The words jerked Jack back to the present, to her dark soulless eyes. He knew what proof she wanted—her hands running up his thighs made that all too clear. The act required was a violation of him — of the memory of his dead wife — and she knew that. But that was the price he had to pay to protect his country.

So Jack inclined his head, and he let his lips meet hers, and he threw himself away for the sake of other people.